CARRIED AWAY

by Donna Kauffman

  "Earth to Christy."

  She snapped her attention to Viv, the most becoming blush staining her cheeks. "Can't a girl eat without all these interruptions?" she muttered. "It's not often I get noncafeteria food."

  "Or nonnuked food," Viv added. She looked to Trevor. "If she ever offers to cook dinner for you, here's a hint. Order in."

  Christy raised her fork. "Guilty as charged. If God had wanted me to cook, he wouldn't have invented microwaves and Lean Cuisine."

  "I can cook," Trevor assured her, his gaze firmly on Christy however, who was making a close study of her plate.

  Viv beamed. "Good, then you can handle breakfast detail."

  "Yes, ma'am," he responded, then lifted his wineglass in a toast. "Good meal, Vivian. And Eric. Thank you for the hospitality." He all but felt Christy relax beside him as the topic and focus shifted away from her. Well, she didn't know it, but his focus was not so easily swayed.

  "Storm looks like it's blowing oven," Eric said as they all finished up.

  "Still raining, though," Viv added. "The road down will be a mess tomorrow. Speaking of tomorrow, we have to figure out sleeping arrangements for tonight." Viv looked directly at Christy and Trevor.

  "I can bunk in with you in your folks' room," Christy said quickly. "Eric and Trevor can fight over who gets the couch and who gets the guest room." She looked to Trevor. "The couch by the fire is bigger, but the other one folds out to a queen."

  "Thanks," he said, trying not to smile oven her quick summation of who would sleep where, in case anyone got the wrong idea.

  No one said anything else and when Christy looked back at Viv and Eric, they were both smiling at her. And Trevor. "What?" she demanded.

  "Oh, nothing," Viv said with a knowing grin, then pushed back and stood, gathering her dishes. "Another glass of wine anyone?"

  Eric shook his head, but stood as well and stacked plates. "Let me help." Christy started to gather things, but Eric shooed her away. "I've got it. Why don't you and Trevor check on the fire?"

  Meaning "Why don't you and Trevor get lost," Trevor thought, but he couldn't blame the guy. Viv was a captive audience for the night and he'd want to spend as much time alone with her as he could. Viv seemed to be dealing with it and wasn't signaling for a rescue, so he smiled and said, "You guys cooked. Let me and Christy clean up. I think the fire needs a few more logs."

  Christy shot him a look, but when she glanced to Viv, her friend didn't say anything, so she forced a smile and said, "I'm not good at cooking, but I can sterilize with the best of 'em."

  "Thanks, guys," Viv said, then followed Eric into the living-room area.

  Christy watched them leave, frowning.

  "They're just building a fire," Trevor assured her.

  "Yeah, that's what worries me." She looked at him. "And you're right there, fanning the flames."

  "Viv's a grown woman. And I didn't see her crying for help there. In fact, she seemed sincerely grateful to have some more alone time with Eric."

  Christy didn't say anything, she just turned her attention back to cleaning the table.

  He followed her into the kitchen with a stack of dishes. "Christy—"

  She deposited her pile on the counter and turned on him. "I know she's a grown woman. But I also know how charming Eric can be when he wants to be. You weren't there when he walked away from her. I was. You didn't sit up nights with her on the phone. You didn't spend hours over coffee breaks at work listening to her pour her soul out. You didn't watch her try to function without falling apart every other minute. For months. Months, Trevor. So don't tell me how wonderful it would be if they got back together." She blew out another breath and turned away.

  Gently he turned her back, working not to smile when she shrugged away from his touch.

  "And don't smile at me," she warned him, apparently seeing him as clearly as he saw her.

  "No, ma'am."

  "This isn't funny. And it's not some game. It's—"

  "I know. Which is why I wouldn't dare risk life or limb telling you how cute you look when you're mad." He held up his hands when she snatched up the salad tongs and snapped them in his direction. "See? So I didn't say that." He put his hand on hers and lowered the tongs. "What I do see is how loyal a friend you are and I think Viv couldn't be luckier than to have such a staunch supporter on her side." He took the tongs from her. "But ultimately, you also know it's her decision."

  Christy grumbled, but didn't say anything. Finally she turned away and flipped on the water in the sink. "Well, it doesn't mean I have to like it," she muttered.

  He stood behind her, enjoying the hell out of her, moods and all, wanting to touch her, but unsure if she'd appreciate his touch at the moment.

  "I just don't want her hurt," Christy said softly as she scrubbed away at the plates.

  Trevor grabbed a towel when she thrust the first dripping-wet plate at him. "I understand that."

  "She deserves to be happy." Another plate got shoved his way.

  He took that one and wiped it down quickly. "We all deserve happiness." He stacked the plate on the first one just in time to snag the next. "Even Eric, right?"

  She jerked her gaze to his, opening her mouth to blast him for sure, but her motion sent a few soap suds flying, one of which landed on the end of her nose. "Well, I can hardly be taken seriously now, can I?" she said instead, still glaring at him.

  And he simply had no choice. None at all. He dropped the dish towel on the counter and leaned down and kissed her. She didn't respond. In fact, she froze in place, as if she hadn't seen it coming. And he couldn't blame her. He hadn't, either, until she made him do it.

  He lifted his head and she just blinked at him. "You have foam on your nose now, too," she said after a moment.

  "Yes, ma'am," he said, knowing he was smiling and not caring.

  "Why did you do that?" she asked, still standing stock-still, one hand plunged in the sudsy water.

  "Because I had to know."

  "What? What did you have to know?"

  "How that incredible, smart mouth of yours tasted."

  That seemed to set her back for a moment. Good, he thought. Maybe more people needed to set her back, make her think. But only he needed to be the one doing it by kissing her.

  "And?" she asked, after another long moment.

  He laughed. "And I think I need another reconnaissance mission, gather more data, before I can file my report."

  "Ah." She turned back to the dishes, as if nothing had happened.

  Now he was the one set back for a moment. How did she manage to do that? "What ah?" he demanded. "Ah, okay? Or ah, no thanks?"

  She smiled and handed him another plate. "Just ah."

  Great. "Christy—"

  "Shut up and dry the dishes, Trevor."

  He snatched the last plate from her and tried to decide how he was going to handle this … this whatever it was he was having with her. Because he wanted to kiss her again, taste her again, and dammit he wanted her to kiss him back. Was he really so out of touch with the normal day-to-day stuff that he'd forgotten how to seduce a woman?

  He almost laughed at that. If he could have planned the worst possible way to seduce a woman, today couldn't have been any more on target. First he'd kidnapped her, in her underwear no less, forced her to parade around in a god-awful dress, left her to sleep on a porch swing, then accompanied her to a cabin where two people who'd hurt each other enough to get divorced were forced to spend the night under the same roof. The same two people she wanted to keep apart. Sort of hard to mount a seduction campaign when his target was actively working to douse the flames of the other couple. Not the most romantic of atmospheres.

  She helped him dry and put the dishes away, then they both stood there uncertainly. "I'm not sure if we should intrude." Christy craned her neck around the bar. "They're sitting on the couch in front of the fire. Talking." She leaned back against the counter and folded her arms.

  "Is that so bad?" Trevor asked q
uietly. "I mean, if nothing else, maybe they'll get a few things straightened out, mend some fences."

  Christy snorted. "It's going to take some mighty strong lumber for that."

  Trevor hitched himself up on the counter. "What happened? Between them, I mean. You said something about him putting his career first."

  Christy nodded. "Viv had just been promoted, about three months after the wedding. Eric is an international investment banker. They bought a house, big enough for the family they planned to start a couple of years down the line. Everything was great. They really seemed to complement each other. Everyone thought things were perfect, including me."

  "How did it fall apart so quickly then?"

  "Well, Eric was always a bit domineering, but Viv was a good match for him, or so I thought. She has a great sense of humor and could usually tease him around to her way of thinking. Of course, in hindsight, we all realize he got his way more often enough than not." She sighed. "Then about six months into the marriage he gets an offer to relocate to Sweden."

  "Sweden?"

  "Yeah, his parents are here but his grandparents are there and his granddad is involved in some kind of venture-capital thing. Anyway, they wanted Eric and Viv to move there, have their family there."

  "In Sweden." She nodded.

  "It's not that unusual," Trevor said. "I mean, military families relocate all over the world. Kids turn out okay."

  "I don't see you dragging a wife and little ones around with you," Christy said pointedly.

  "Point taken," he admitted. "It's certainly not for everyone, but if his opportunity was a good one—"

  "She didn't marry into the military," Christy said, "so she had no way to see this coming. She just started her career here. Her family is here. She'd just bought a house, just gotten married for Pete's sake."

  "Couldn't she work as a nurse in Sweden?"

  "That wasn't the point, but no. She doesn't speak Swedish and it would mean not only learning the language, but schooling all over again over there and starting from the bottom. The medical community is run entirely differently and—"

  "And he was asking her to give up everything for him."

  Christy stopped and blew out a breath. "Exactly."

  "She wasn't even willing to give it a try?"

  "She'd have had to leave her job here, with no guarantee. Sell the house she was halfway done decorating. Leave her family and her friends. And let's remember, this wasn't exactly Eric's dream job. Nor was it so he could go back to the homeland to be with his family and friends. He'd visited his grandparents a handful of times as a child and that was it. It was a risky venture and he was walking away from a far more certain financial future here because the idea excited him. He literally asked her to jump off a cliff with him and hope for the best."

  "And she said no."

  "After a lot of tears and soul-searching, she said no. She asked him to stay here, to live the life they'd planned on, be happy the way they had been."

  "And he said no."

  She nodded. "He was angry that she wouldn't see that his career and choices were most important. He honestly felt that it was the wife's duty to support her husband's choices, that he was the supporter financially and she emotionally."

  Trevor smiled. "Oh, I imagine that went over well."

  "That's just it. Viv is a pretty traditional type. She felt a tremendous amount of guilt for standing up for what she wanted, for saying it was equally important to his wants and needs. It hurt her terribly when he basically decided this new venture was more important than her and their marriage."

  "Do you really think that's what he thought?"

  "No. He thought she'd cave and run after him. And when she didn't he got angry and said some things that were really unforgivable. And, admittedly, so did she. After that, neither of them would back down, not without denting their pride."

  Trevor looked to the living area. "Do you think he's really changed? Enough that they could work things out?"

  Christy shrugged. "My instinct is to say no. I mean, it's been a year and a half, and I will admit that he has tried several times to talk to her. But this crushed Viv and she simply couldn't allow him back into her life, not even a little bit. She sold the house, along with most everything in it, bought the little place she has now and started over. She never wanted to see or talk to him again and I don't blame her."

  "So Kate stepped in."

  Christy rolled her eyes. "Miss Helpful."

  "Her heart was in the right place. At least, she had no harmful intentions."

  "I know, but she shouldn't have done it."

  "They are talking. Maybe in the long run, it wasn't such a bad thing."

  Christy scowled, then nodded. "And I hate admitting that, so don't rub it in."

  Trevor grinned. "You suffered the most, so you have every right to be mad."

  Christy sank down to the floor, leaning back against the cabinets. "I'm not mad, not really. Just concerned."

  Trevor hopped down and slid to sit across from her, stretching out his legs alongside hers. "And tired. I still feel terrible about my part in all this."

  She cocked her head. "Just how did Kate manage to talk you into it anyway? You don't strike me as the type to be bullied into anything."

  "I would have agreed with you. But you've never been trapped in a tiny room with a crying bride, half an hour before she's supposed to marry your best friend. Ten minutes and I was ready to do whatever it took to make her stop crying."

  Christy laughed. "I suppose I can see your terror."

  Trevor tipped his foot to one side and nudged her calf. "I meant what I said. About making it up to you."

  He felt her leg tense, but she relaxed and didn't move away. In fact, she smiled at him in that dry way of hers. "What exactly is the standard compensation for kidnapping?"

  He laughed. "I think that's usually up to the abductee. How about I offer to be your personal thunderstorm hotline for the next … well, however long you think the detail should last?"

  Her gaze caught his then and he felt his heart slow until he could feel each individual thump.

  "That's—" Her voice was rough and she paused to clear her throat.

  Trevor swallowed, glad to know that he wasn't the only one affected by their close proximity to one another.

  "A good start," she finished.

  "I can think of another thing I could do to show you how sorry I am."

  Her throat worked and she folded her arms beneath her breasts, the action bringing her nipples to his attention as they pressed against the front of her sweatshirt. And it wasn't remotely cold where they were sitting. Which meant she was reacting to him.

  "What would that be?" she asked a bit hoarsely. Now or never, he told himself. He scooted forward until he was right next to her. "That would be this." He cupped her face with one hand and leaned in and kissed her. Only this time he didn't plan on being the only one doing the kissing.

  * * *

  His lips were warm, and soft and firm at the same time. He tasted like wine. It was a heady mix and it clouded her brain. But it felt too damn good, so she let it.

  She hadn't seen it coming last time … but he'd made it perfectly clear this time. And she still wasn't prepared for it. Or for him.

  "Let me in," he murmured against her lips. "I want to taste you."

  She shuddered with pleasure, right there on the kitchen floor. And she parted her lips and let him in. He kept the kiss slow, and easy … almost lazy. Like he had all night.

  And she supposed they did. Dear God, could she imagine kissing him like this, all slow and lazy and hot, for hours? Why, yes, she realized, she absolutely could. In fact, her body was way past imagining and begging her to make it happen.

  She leaned into his kiss when he teased her tongue into his own mouth. Wrapping her hand around the back of his neck, she sighed when his long fingers slid into her hair. Her entire body felt electrified at his touch, all tingly and hypersensitive. Her fingertips
traced the edge of his collar as his mouth left hers and trailed hot, wet kisses along her jaw. She dipped her fingers below his collar, brushing his warm skin, wondering what it would feel like to run her hands down his broad back. His naked broad back.

  Someone moaned. She was pretty sure it was her. She pulled back, sliding her hand from his neck and curling her fingers into her palm, and against the need to touch him. "Trevor."

  He lifted his lips from where they'd been making devastating headway toward the tender skin of her neck. But he stayed a breath away. "What?"

  "We're sitting on the kitchen floor." And another second or two, she might not have been sitting any longer.

  "And?"

  "And we probably shouldn't be."

  He lifted his head and looked at her, amusement and desire both in his eyes. It was like a one-two punch directly to her libido.

  "Where should we be?" he asked, clearly in no hurry to stop what he'd been doing.

  "I—" She laughed. "I refuse to answer on the grounds that it might incriminate me." And get me naked. Which, if there weren't two people in the other room, she might have very easily allowed. And it was that realization that had her scooting away from him. Him and his blue eyes and lazy, warm lips and amused smile.

  He let her slide away, but there was a promise in his eyes. I always succeed. Eventually. It made her shiver in anticipation.

  "I think I like that answer," he said. "A lot. As intriguing as the woman who uttered it."

  Intriguing? He thought she was intriguing? "I think I'm flattered." And incredibly hot for you. But she didn't think it was wise to add that part. Since he could probably read the neon sign over her head saying the same thing. She wanted to fan herself as he continued to stare at her.